Chapter 2 - Thirty-Seven Seconds of Truth
The security room was located two floors beneath the private suites.
David entered first.
Marcus followed ten minutes later after Dr. Caldwell had finally convinced him to leave Khloe long enough for the emergency scans to be completed.
Isabella sat in another room with hospital security.
She had already requested an attorney.
That alone told Marcus more than her tears ever had.
Elaine stood near the monitors.
“I was there,” she said. “I want to see it.”
David nodded.
The security director pulled up the synchronized footage from four cameras.
“Timestamp 21:42:17.”
The video began.
Khloe entered the private charity suite alone.
Isabella was already inside.
There was no audio from the hallway camera, but the interior camera captured everything.
At first, the two women spoke.
Khloe remained near the door.
Isabella stepped toward her.
Then pointed at Khloe’s stomach.
Marcus clenched his fists.
“What were they arguing about?”
Elaine answered.
“I heard part of it before I went to find Marcus. Isabella told Khloe that the baby would never ‘sit in Daniel Thorne’s chair.’”
Marcus turned.
“My father’s chair?”
Elaine nodded.
Daniel Thorne had founded Thorne Meridian forty years earlier.
He died six months ago.
His will had not yet been fully executed because one section depended on the birth of Marcus’s first biological child.
Marcus knew the clause existed.
He had never understood why anyone outside the family would care.
The footage continued.
Khloe turned toward the door.
She was leaving.
Isabella grabbed her arm.
Khloe pulled free.
Then Isabella shoved her.
Hard.
Khloe struck the edge of a table.
She tried to steady herself.
Isabella shoved her again.
Khloe fell.
Marcus stopped breathing.
Elaine covered her mouth.
But the video was not finished.
Isabella stood over Khloe.
She looked toward the hallway.
Then deliberately kicked the overturned chair closer to Khloe’s body.
She picked up a broken crystal flute.
Dropped it beside Khloe’s hand.
Then scratched her own forearm against a jagged edge of the table.
Marcus stared.
“She injured herself.”
David’s expression became stone.
The security director nodded.
“Thirty-seven seconds later, people entered.”
The video showed Isabella stepping backward and beginning to cry.
By the time Marcus entered, the scene had already been arranged.
A lie built in less than a minute.
Marcus walked away from the monitors.
His hands shook.
David said quietly:
“Do not go near Isabella.”
“She could have killed my wife.”
“Yes.”
“My child.”
“Yes.”
Marcus turned.
“And you expect me to stand here?”
“I expect you to remember that anger is exactly what someone like her needs from you.”
Marcus stared.
David stepped closer.
“If you touch her, tomorrow’s story becomes billionaire husband attacks woman after wife’s accident.”
He pointed toward the monitor.
“Right now, the evidence belongs to Khloe.”
Marcus forced himself to breathe.
Then the door opened.
Dr. Caldwell entered.
Marcus immediately moved toward him.
“Khloe?”
Nathan removed his glasses.
“The baby still has a heartbeat.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“But?”
“There’s placental bleeding.”
The room became silent.
“We’ve stabilized Khloe, but the next twelve hours are critical.”
Marcus whispered:
“Can I see her?”
“Yes.”
Then Nathan looked toward David.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Khloe’s bloodwork.”
Nathan hesitated.
“We found traces of a sedative.”
Marcus stared.
“A sedative?”
“Low concentration. Not enough to incapacitate her. Enough to cause dizziness.”
David’s face changed.
“Did she receive anything medically tonight?”
“No.”
Marcus thought back.
Champagne.
Khloe hadn’t been drinking.
Water.
Tea.
Then he remembered.
Isabella had personally brought Khloe a glass of sparkling water fifteen minutes before the confrontation.
Marcus looked toward the security director.
“Find every camera covering the reception.”
David understood immediately.
“This wasn’t only a shove.”
Marcus’s voice went cold.
“She planned it.”
Twenty minutes later, another video appeared.
Isabella standing at the bar.
Looking around.
Opening her clutch.
Dropping something into a glass.
Then carrying that glass directly to Khloe.
Elaine whispered:
“My God.”
David immediately called hospital police.
Isabella was no longer being detained merely as a witness.
She was being investigated for assault and suspected poisoning.
But before officers could enter the room where she waited, Isabella made a phone call.
Security recorded only her side.
Her voice trembled.
“They have the cameras.”
Pause.
“No, you don’t understand.”
Another pause.
Then Isabella whispered:
“You said they were disabled.”
Marcus stared at the transcript.
Someone had told her the cameras would not be working.
And only seven people had access to the hospital’s private-floor security schedule.
One of them was Marcus’s mother.
May you like
Victoria Thorne.
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